


Reset

by Roosterbytes



Series: Soulmate AUs [4]
Category: Septiplier - Fandom
Genre: Groundhog Day AU, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Soulmates, but not really, more to be added - Freeform, time resets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-29
Updated: 2017-01-05
Packaged: 2018-08-27 19:04:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 5
Words: 5,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8413084
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Roosterbytes/pseuds/Roosterbytes
Summary: Jack remembers the day it all started, or maybe he doesn’t. He’s been at this so long that it’s hard to tell anymore. But he’ll try, for the sake of his own sanity, if he even has any shred of it left.





	1. That day will forever be engraved in my skin

**Author's Note:**

> I watched Mark play Spime and I got inspired to write this. I've honestly wanted to write one of these stories for a long time and I really hope I'll be able to keep up with this one. I read a story with the same theme as this a while ago, so I'm going to do my best to capture it just as well as it did. I hope you like this.

Jack remembers the day it all started, or maybe he doesn’t. He’s been at this so long that it’s hard to tell anymore. But he’ll try, for the sake of his own sanity, if he even has any shred of it left.

It was just any old day in the middle of June. Thursday the sixteenth, to be exact. Or maybe it was Tuesday the twenty-first, he’s not entirely sure. Either way, Mark’s birthday was coming up and Jack had been excited. His gift was already shipped out, on its way to go to the Fischbach residence and he couldn’t wait to see the look on Mark’s face as he opened it. He knew Mark would call, he always did when Jack sent him something--wanted Jack to see his reaction and express his gratitude.

But this time, Mark didn’t call.

Jack had checked the shipping date over and over. It told him it had arrived at Mark’s residence. The tracking even said so. It should be sitting in Mark’s mailbox, waiting to be opened. It had arrived at 7:43pm, which meant that it was 11:43am for Mark. It was surely possible Mark hadn’t woken up yet, he’s slept in on occasion, but as the hours ticked by, Jack’s excitement turned into anxiety and worry.

He tried to convince himself that Mark was recording videos, that they were going up late. Mark had sent a tweet earlier that morning about it, apologizing to the Community and promising to get the up soon. The first video went up without a hitch and that eased Jack’s worry but only slightly. 

The second video didn’t go up. It was around midnight for the Irishman and yet, he still waited for that Skype call. He sat at his desk, one leg tucked under the other as he bit his thumb, scrolling through fanart on Tumblr. He didn’t need both his hands for that, well, except to type the comments that followed his reblogging, but for the most part, the thumb of his left hand sat inbetween his teeth, being chewed at over and over.

It was the early hours of the morning, 3am to be exact, give or take a few minutes. He was clearly antsy and a bit tired, but he waited patiently for Mark to call. Any minute now that call sound would go off and Jack would sit upright, excited as he had been earlier that day. But he didn’t sit up, no, he curled into himself, trying hard to breathe as an overwhelming pain seared across his torso. His phone lay on the floor, headphones falling off his head and onto his face. He drew his knees closer, as if to protect himself from an outer pain, but it was all internal. His torso was roaring with flames, skin prickling and burning. It felt as if someone was setting a forest fire inside his chest while grinding sandpaper against his skin.

He tried to hold in the noises, he really did, but screams exploded from his lips. Anguished screams bounced across his walls that not even the soundproof padding could contain. He kicked with his feet trying to scramble away, but to no avail. He’d only managed to throw himself off his chair and onto the floor where his headphones pulled up over his head before dropping to the floor. He simply laid there, body trembling hard as scream after scream shot from his lips. His neighbor’s knocking and shouting went unheard as he was blinded by pain.  
Sirens were coming in the distance but fell on deaf ears. He could barely hear himself screaming as his brain tried to function. All he could focus on was the pain. It had been going for what felt like an eternity, constantly raking lava-covered nails across his flesh. He could barely breathe, whether from the screaming, his knees tucked so close to his body or the pain. It didn’t matter for much longer anyway. Paramedics had rushed to his side, at least, that’s what he thought they were. They had a soothing, calming tone to their voice but Jack didn’t hear any of the words. They tried to pry him from his position but he only screamed more.

He soon felt frigid fingers under his chin, tilting his head up. Something was placed on his face, barely containing his screams. They were instructing him to do something, but he couldn’t hear them. The pain was too much and he wished he could pass out. Anything was better than being conscious through all of this pain.

He felt the oxygen being forced into his lungs, the tear tracks running down his cheeks in waterfalls as that same frigid hand rubbed his back, talking in that soothing voice that had words his brain couldn’t understand.

And then, the burning stopped.

It was like all the pain he’d just endured had disappeared in an instant. He could breathe again, sucking in the oxygen like a hungry baby being fed. He felt the tears, heavy and fat, rolling down his face. The hand that was once freezing, now slightly warm on his back. He felt his heavy limbs on the carpet of his recording room floor. And finally the voices faded in.

“Sir? Sir, can you hear me at all?” A woman’s voice asked calmly. Jack’s throat felt raw but he managed a noise of confirmation which was all the woman needed.

“I need you to breathe and try to relax, okay sir?” She softly instructed and Jack limply nodded his head, allowing his tired body to sink into the carpet a little more, untucking his knees from his chest just a little bit to allow easier breathing. He focused on breathing as his brain tried to catch up to reality. He didn’t know what had just happened, his mind unable to wrap around it but it was real, he knew that much.

“Sir, are you able to tell me what happened?” She cooed softly, removing the oxygen mask. Jack tried to shake his head, only managing to flop some of his hair onto his eyebrow and a little into his eye. He finally realized how sweaty he was, body trembling like an earthquake.

“Can you tell me what hurts?” She tried and Jack didn’t really know. The pain was gone now, leaving a heaviness in his body and sweat on his skin. He barely opened his eyes, wanting to do nothing but sleep after the experience he’d just gone through. Despite there being no pain, he answered.

“Torso, my chest..” Jack whispered out hoarsely. The lady nodded, moving her hand from Jack’s back and positioning them in the air above Jack’s shoulders.

“I’m going to flip you on your back now, is that okay Sir?” She asked and he nodded weakly. She reached for something Jack couldn’t see before putting it in front of her, in his line of sight.

“I’m going to put this neck brace on as a precaution, okay?” Jack mumbled his understanding and allowed her to do so before turning him on his back.

“I’m going to cut open your shirt now. The scissors are going to be a bit cold.” She explained and Jack simply sighed, wanting this over with as soon as possible. He wanted to know what was wrong but at the same time, he didn’t care. He wanted sleep more.

He heard the scissors snip twice before he felt them against his belly, sliding up his shirt until it reached his collarbones. He closed his eyes, wiggling his fingers to let the paramedic know he was still awake.

A slight chill drifted across his sweaty chest as the paramedic moved his shirt to the side. He felt her pause for a moment before placing gloved hands on his chest.

“Let me know if any of this hurts.” Jack hummed tiredly and felt her press her hands lightly in seemingly random spots. When he didn’t make a noise, she pressed slightly harder. He felt her hands press against his left pec, near his heart and he made a small noise.

“Does this hurt?” She asked, but something in her voice told him she already knew.

“Yeah.” He croaked, clearing his throat and opening his eyes to look at her. She wore a heavy frown on her lightly tanned face. Brown eyes met his and she immediately fixed her expression into a neutral one. She gave a soft sad smile before taking her hands away.

“I’m going to help you sit up now.” Her voice sounded softer, sadder even and Jack wondered if something was wrong with his heart.

Was he going to die?

Once she was sure he could sit up on his own, she removed her hands and the neck brace. He raised his hand weakly to rub at the muscles on his neck and shoulder tiredly, awaiting her diagnosis.

“I’m sorry Sir-” She began. Jack cut her off, already not liking this.

“Jack.” He stated, buying a little bit of time to steal himself.

“I’m sorry Jack, but your soulmate..” She bit her lip, eyes flicking up from her lap to meet his. He really didn’t like this.

“Is dead.” Her words were final and they hit hard, almost knocking the wind out of him once more. His eyes widened and she tried to pacify him, hands raised in front of her.

“Sir-” She began but Jack was already on his feet rushing out of the room to his bathroom. He could hear her following him but he didn’t care as he switched the light on. His eyes immediately flew to his left pec, right where his heart was. The black ink that was once beautifully written there, was a dull grey. No matter how many times his eyes traced the words, his brain couldn’t comprehend it. It couldn’t be true.. But the same grey letters were there to greet him every time he flicked the light back on.

_Mark Edward Fischbach_  
_June 28th, 1989 - June 21st, 2016_


	2. Memorize all the little things you love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He's holding out hope, even if it's hopeless. The fairytale he wants it to be is what keeps him going.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beep boop! I'm back! I don't know how long it's been to be honest. I haven't slept yet.
> 
> This was written on my phone. There's gonna be typos and missing words and what not. Nevertheless, I hope you enjoy. (:

Jack remembers waking up gasping, skin covered in sweat and itching from his bad sweat glands. He remembers checking the calendar that first time, only to find out it was the beginning of that morning all over again. He tried to laugh off the nightmare, he really did, but his whole body was shaking and tears were building in his eyes, threatening to spill within seconds. He remembers how that first time, he dismissed it all. He was so foolish then, whenever then was. But he knows better now. He's got the days up to Mark's birthday to a T. He knows he needs to get on the first plane he can. Knows he needs to stay at Mark's house and keep the man inside to avoid the car crash he gets impaled in. Knows the next day that they've got to avoid certain streets because of the mugger. That they can't film that challenge with Team Edge because Mark falls and whacks his head on the sharp corner of a desk and goes into a coma where his brain slowly dies from internal bleeding. Jack knows the routine. Knows what they can and can't do for the first few days, no matter how many tries it took him to get to this point that Mark gets to live a few extra days. And when he fails, he gets to relive the loss again, before starting from the beginning of the cycle.

Even now with Mark tucked into his side, safe and soundly asleep, Jack is on edge. Mark's living room isn't deadly. No one has tried to kill them in Mark's house but they could. Every second is a second longer than Mark had lived last time.

In a way, Jack wishes he knew how many times he's done this. That he had some kind of indicator of how long he's been doing this but every reset starts exactly the same as it was. Jack's appearance doesn't change, which made the tattoo he'd gotten a few times pointless. Nevertheless, he tried to keep up with the number, but with every new try, it no longer mattered. In the end, Mark still died and Jack got to feel the loss of his soulmate rip him apart again.

But this time will be different. It has to be. He's followed the right route, taken the right safety measures. Mark is going to live. He just has to make it to Mark's next birthday, then it'll be over. The timestamp will be set and they can continue on with their lives. Maybe Jack's mind will return to how it once was, where he wasn't a paranoid mess who wanted to lock Mark away.. Granted he didn't do that, but every time Mark dies, Jack debates if Mark hating him is worth keeping him alive. It is, he knows it is, but maybe if he keeps trying, they can make it to Mark's birthday together and in love. The nausea in his gut says otherwise, but he can still hope, can't he?  
It's all he has to keep him going.

Jack closes his eyes and listens to Mark's breathing and light snores. Tries not to imagine all the times he's heard Mark's breathing disappear. Tries not to imagine every death he's seen and the ones he's seen multiple times.

It doesn't work.

Instead he opens his eyes, quickly focusing his gaze on Mark who is cuddling into him. He takes in everything he can about the man. From each red hair to his tucked in feet. It's like he's never going to see Mark again, but he will. And he'll get to see the parts of Mark he doesn't want to see. His blood, his bones, his organs..

So for now, he will trace every inch of Mark in hopes to ingrain The man who is Mark and not the corpse he leaves behind.


	3. Would you like to restart?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Game over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been a long time. A very, long time. Things at home have been going from bad to worse. It's the same shit, but a different day, as my Mom would put it. But hey, this is a chapter.. kinda. Everytime I think of these stories, I'm always tempted to end them. To just stop writing and abandon it because of how long it takes me to even get a new chapter up. I've got maybe two more ideas/chapters for this, unless I get energy to do more.

Jack’s hand is gingerly caressing Mark’s face as he holds the man in his lap. Mark’s face glows in the light of the sunset and the thought makes Jack smile. 

 

But it’s a wobbly smile.

 

Jack knows he’s trembling, body practically quaking as he stares into Mark’s eyes. Those cold, lifeless brown eyes stare back at him, hollow and glassy. He knows he should close Mark’s eyes, he knows he should, but he’s got to ingrain this into his head better, maybe then he’ll finally be able to keep Mark alive long enough to end this cycle.

 

He just needed to keep Mark alive till his birthday. How hard was that? Not at all, and yet.. Here he is again, holding another one of Mark’s lifeless corpses that will all disappear the moment he restarts the week. The thought doesn’t make him feel better or worse. He just feels numb, like he’s not a person anymore. He still cries when Mark dies, but they’re silent waterfalls flowing down his pale skin. He doesn’t scream, or beg, or try to make a deal with a God he doesn’t believe in, to bring Mark back. He knows it won’t work, it never did, and somewhere along the many resets, he’d lost hope in it. What he wouldn’t give for that hope back..

 

But instead he picks himself off the ground, making sure he’s carrying Mark in his arms as if he were sleeping, before walking to a place he can put Mark to rest. Even though there’s never been a funeral, the days simply ended moments after Mark died, he’d always put Mark on their bed, facing him. He’d lay on his side facing Mark, rivers of tears not ceasing as he’d look his soulmate. He’d close his eyes after a few breaths, whisper ‘I love you’ into the silence before he woke up to the beginning again.


	4. Author's Note : Abandoning work

Hello lovelies,

I’ve been meaning to update for ages and now I’m updating for a different reason.

I had no plan for these stories. They started with an idea that I made up as I went along and although I had plenty of ideas to write with, they never went with the story I was writing at the time. That’s one reason I mainly stuck to short one “chapter” stories. I have to write everything all at once, or I lose the headspace I was in and have to try to refind it, which normally isn’t the same as the original.

But that’s not really why I’m updating now. I’m updating now to tell you these stories : Reset, Learn to love me and How to cure boredom with murder, are going to be unfinished and abandoned.

It’s been way too long between updates and I’ve constantly thought about abandoning them anyway. Life had been getting in the way so much that I had no energy or motivation to even write a sentence of the next chapter.

I had seen a comment under one of Mark’s videos that made me question myself and made me feel uncomfortable with what I’ve been writing. I discussed it with some friends and although I know I don’t take the ship seriously and mostly use it as a creative outlet, the comment still rattled me. It still does. 

But the thing that made my decision final, was Mark. His video “I want to believe : Revenge of the Septiplier” made me _really_ question myself. I had felt even worse about what I’d written and had been writing that I wanted to delete everything. I still do.. And I probably will. 

To me, the ship was a fantasy. It was a Fairytale relationship that I adored and still do. But I don’t want to write it anymore. There is nothing wrong with it, I don’t want to discourage anyone from writing it or any ship they have. I just simply don’t want to play a role in it the way I have been. I may still read it, but that’s as far as that will go, and even then, I don’t know if I will.

I’m going to delete my account, all my work and start anew. The original, non-ship work, will go on my new account. This Author Note will go on these stories for a day or two, before they will be deleted.

So lovelies, this is goodbye from Roosterbytes. I wish you all the best and hope to see you around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Take care lovelies.


	5. Do you want to overwrite your save?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A save file already exists. Do you wish to overwrite it?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovelies. I read your comments from the stories and I decided to stay on this account. I don't know if I'll be writing anymore Septiplier after this but I wanted to finish these stories. I thought about how I would feel if an author I liked did what I did and I felt bad leaving these unfinished. I will be finishing up the other stories, if I am able to. **This is the last chapter.**
> 
> Thank you all for your comments. They really meant a lot to me and have made me want to stay in this Community and on this account. Thank you for the encouragement, love and respect you've all shown me.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this final chapter and that it feels like the ending you all deserve.

Jack was close, the closest he’s ever been.

It’s been countless more attempts and he’s pretty sure he’s lost his mind at this point. The proof may not be on his hands anymore, but if the last attempt had proved anything, it was that Jack was at his rope’s end.

He would do anything for Mark, that much was certain. When that mugger had approached them, Jack had stood in his way, shielding Mark with his body.. But Mark was Mark. He was kind, caring and protective. He’d rather die than watch Jack die. So what did he do? He pushed Jack aside, he took that bullet for him and in that same moment, Jack had let out all his emotions in one scream of Mark’s name.

The mugger had seemed startled by the gunshot, as if his finger hadn’t pulled the trigger, but the proof was there in the shape of a bullet hole. Thankfully, but unluckily, the bullet had missed Mark’s heart, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t bleeding out at an alarming rate after crumpling to the tar where Jack barely caught him got brought down with him.

As Jack held Mark’s shaking body, his own shaking hands held over the bullet hole in Mark’s chest, the mugger stood, staring at the two. His eyes were bulging out, looking to be ready to pop out of his skull. He watched as Jack desperately tried to reassurance Mark that he’d be okay, while also pleading to the open air that Mark would make it. Mark had a shaky, pained smile on his face, slightly glazed eyes looking at Jack from over his shoulder.

Jack’s eyes were darting between the blood and Mark’s own as he tried to apply pressure, his own bloody shirt pulled off in hopes it would absorb some of the bleeding and keep Mark alive.. But it didn’t. Mark had that same pained smile, his eyes slowly blinking before mumbling an I love you and nuzzling his face weakly into Jack’s neck. He died, planting a soft, light kiss to Jack’s skin.

And that’s when Jack had lost it.

Mark was gone. Again. All because of the teenage boy that stood infront of them. So Jack laid Mark down gently, before getting to his feet ever-so shakily. The teenager was trying to speak but his tongue must’ve been heavy because no words came out but that didn’t matter. What mattered was that this teenager, this man, had killed Mark.

Jack’s icy blue eyes met terrified green ones and in that moment, Jack’s eyes were as lifeless as they’d ever been. The movement came fast and forceful. Jack slammed his body weight into the other man, effectively knocking him to the ground and Jack was fast to take advantage of that. His body was filled with pure hatred and grief that pumped through him in the form of adrenaline. Fists raised and swinging over and over.

Jack hadn’t even realized he’d been screaming at the man until his throat became so raw it hurt to talk--to breathe, but he kept swinging, even after the struggling had stopped, even after he knew the man was dead, Jack didn’t stop.

The sirens had pulled him out of his blinding rage and anguish. He removed himself from the man below him, not bothering to even take in the damage he’d done. He picked up the gun from the ground before sitting on the tar and taking Mark back into his arms. He couldn’t do this anymore.. He couldn’t. Mark’s face was buried in his neck once more as he cocked the gun back, tears dripping down his bloody face onto Mark’s hair. He pressed a kiss to Mark’s forehead before pulling the trigger.

 

But it didn’t kill him.

He was back at the beginning. Even ending his life had not stopped the cycle he had been in-was still in. So he got up, got dressed and proceeded to the airport just as he’d done many times before.

The routine stayed the same throughout the days. He repeated the same processes over and over, knowing exactly what to avoid and most of it was just keeping Mark inside and away from any harm he could. He didn’t sleep, he couldn’t, and in a way, that worked in his favor. Mark was worried about him, trying to coax him to get some rest and take it easy, but he couldn’t. He had to get it right, he had to keep Mark alive no matter how many times it takes--because he loved him, and if the cycle wouldn’t let him die with Mark, then he had no choice but to get Mark to live with him.

 

Which led him to now. Mark was asleep behind him, arm thrown over Jack’s waist as he spooned him from behind. Jack savoured the feeling of Mark’s body around him and his breath on Jack’s skin. Had it been any other time out of this cycle, Jack would be asleep with him, or enjoying the feel of Mark’s dick against his ass, but right now, he was staring intently at the clock. In a few minutes, it would be Mark’s birthday. His body swelled with emotions at the thought but he refused to let any out. He needed to see the clock, needed to feel Mark and listen to the noises in their house and outside. It may be only a few minutes, but Jack knew how much could change in just a handful of minutes.

The clocked ticked on ever-so slowly as Jack watched with bated breath. He rubbed his thumb soothingly up and down the back of Mark’s hand in efforts to calm himself and remind himself that Mark was there. He was still alive, sleeping behind him.

When the clock switched to midnight, Jack let emptied his lungs into the night air only to pause halfway. It may be midnight, but at twelve o’ one, he’d have finally done it. Mark would have lived to see his birthday and he just had to pray that that was enough.   
The next minute passed and the rest of Jack’s lungs emptied in a sigh and as he inhaled, he felt Mark shift behind him, nuzzling against his neck. A soft, tired smile spread across his face and tears finally flowed freely down his cheeks. He hoped, he really hoped, this would be enough. His tired body finally gave into the feeling of Mark around him, his eyes began to flutter despite the fear that was wedged in his throat and bubbled in his gut. He couldn’t stay awake any longer.

 

Jack awoke in his bed alone. He closed his eyes almost immediately at the feeling and let out a heavy sigh. He’d thought he’d done it.. Thought the cycle was finally over, but it appears it wasn’t. He gave it his all.. And it wasn’t enough. Tears flowed freely down his face, waterfalls immediately soaking his pillow as he let the sobs wrack his body. His hopes had been shattered and Mark was gone.

“Mark..Ma-ark.. I.. I thought.. I-I wanted.. It wasn’t enough.. I’m-sorry. I’m so sorry Mark!” Jack sobbed before burying his face in his pillow, hiccuping hard. He allowed himself to feel all the pain he’d endured through the cycle, letting it all out in that moment as he gripped the pillow. He had believed it would be enough.. He wanted it so bad. Did it think he didn’t want it enough? That he didn’t try hard enough?

 

“Jack? Oh Baby..” He swore he’d heard Mark’s voice and that only made him cry harder. Mark wasn’t there.. He was dead, again. His brain was in such chaos that he was hearing Mark’s voice in attempts to comfort himself.

“Jack, baby..” He felt a rub his back.

“Mark.. I fuckin-miss you.. I love you.. S-so much.. M’ sorry.” Jack hiccuped, fingers curling in the pillow case.

“I’m right here Jack. I’m right here. Babe, look at me.” Mark’s voice urged and Jack laughed humorlessly but gave into his mind. He turned his body and slowly opened his eyes, afraid of what he’d see.. Or what he wouldn’t see.

Mark’s was leaning down over him, brows furrowed in concern. His hand was on Jack’s shoulder now, as if to ground him but Jack was more confused than anything. He sat up more, reaching a trembling hand out towards Mark’s face.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” Mark asked, concern lacing every word. Jack flinched at his words, hand withdrawing a bit before cautiously moving forward again. He swallowed the lump in his throat, almost choking on it.

“M-Mark..? A-ar’ you real..?” Jack’s voice was small, raw with emotion and hoarse with sleep. His eyes scanned over Mark’s face, trying to check for something to give away if he wasn’t but he didn’t find anything. Mark looked real, just like every time he’d gotten off the plane and knocked on Mark’s door.

“Jack. What do you mean by ‘are you real’? Of course I’m real Jack.” Mark’s voice was soft, trying to comfort Jack. Although Jack looked unsure, he finally placed his hand against Mark’s face. The flesh underneath his fingers was soft and warm. He felt Mark smile at his touch and Jack took a moment to look around the room. It was definitely not his bedroom, but Mark’s. He recognized it from the countless times he’d been in here with Mark.

He withdrew his hand from Mark’s face, feeling the loss already, but thankfully Mark took one of his hands in his own, effectively sandwiching his smaller had. He rubbed his thumb across Jack’s knuckles and kissed them while Jack stared at him, eyes still red and puffy with dry tear tracks down his cheeks. He didn’t want to tear his gaze from Mark but he had to know what day it was. He’d spotted his phone on the bedside table and picked it up, clicking it on. 

_10:32 am, June 28th, 2016_

Jack stared at it for a moment longer, watching it switch the the next minute. He looked from his phone to Mark who gave him a patient smile. After a few more looks back and forth, a wide smile spread across Jack’s face and new tears glided down his cheeks.

“Yer real.. You’re really real..” Jack giggled through the hiccups. He adjusted himself so he could stand on his knees and immediately flung his upper torso towards Mark’s. One arm went around Mark’s waist while the other went up the back of his neck, fingers tangling in the short strands of his hair. Their chests pressed together as Jack kissed Mark. He could feel his body overflowing with happiness, love and relief at this new revelation. It had taken Mark a second to reel from the surprise but soon Mark was kissing back, his own arms wrapped around Jack. The kisses were passionate and love-filled with a few short breaths inbetween. Each time they parted Jack was fast to dive back in for more.

“You’re here. God, Mark.. you’re here. I love you, I love you so much Mark.” Jack sighed inbetween kisses.

“I love you too Jack.” Mark managed to get out, chuckles rumbling in his chest as they kissed. The two pulled away, gathering their breath which mingled between them. Both of them smiled at each other before Mark remembered his original concern.

“What happened, Jack?” He wasn’t sure how to answer that. A lot had happened, but Mark didn’t know. He’d never known during the cycle, so why would he know now.

“It’s a long story.” Jack settled on, giving a half smile.

“I was only gone for ten minutes, Jack.” Mark chuckled, eyebrow raised.

“I missed you.” Jack whispered. That’s the only way he could convey how he’d felt through it all. He loved Mark so much and he missed him constantly. He’d been so focused on keeping Mark alive that he didn’t have time to sit back and just enjoy his company--but now, he did and he was definitely going to do just that.

“Of course you did. Who wouldn’t miss this?” Mark pulled back and gestured to his body. Jack laughed in response before a smile settled on his face once more.

“I dunno, sane people?” Jack joked back. Mark chuckled, lightly shoving Jack.

“Yeah, suuurrreee.” Mark laughed before leaning down for a kiss.

“I love you.”

“I love you too. Happy Birthday Mark.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'd love to hear what you have to say. Please feel free to leave comments and criticisms below. I adore you all. Have a wonderful day.


End file.
